


feel it all

by redrosebouquet



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blindfolds, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27794512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redrosebouquet/pseuds/redrosebouquet
Summary: It's Jensen's night to take control.  He's not going to waste it.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	feel it all

The second they walk off the stage, Jensen is pulling Misha away from the others, down a dark hallway he knows leads outside, ignoring the calls from their handlers and Jared. Misha is laughing, but Jensen is all business right now. They had always been…unafraid of public displays of affection, but Misha straddling him onstage, wrapping his hand around his throat, knowing it would make Jensen hard in front of hundreds of people? Also knowing that Jensen couldn’t do anything about it? That was a line that Jensen never knew they would cross.

Jensen pushes the door open roughly, blinking the light of the setting sun out of his eyes, and he wastes no time spinning around and pushing Misha roughly against the wall and kissing him fiercely. Misha is as malleable as clay, arching away from the wall so their chests are pressed together, sliding his hands from under Jensen’s shirt to his hair, pulling him as close as possible.

Misha moans as Jensen bites at his bottom lip, and Jensen feels like he could come undone, the hardness he had had to fight down under the bright lights coming back within seconds. He knows if they don’t stop now, he won’t.

They break apart, hair tangled, lips pink, breathing hard. How does he look this good? With his stupid leather jacket and that look on his face? Without thinking, Jensen reaches in his pocket and pulls out his phone, flipping towards the camera. When he angles it up to take a picture, Misha laughs,

“What’s that for?”

“I’m gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

The way Misha looks at him then, with an edge to his eyes that promises the kind of play that Jensen has been wanting all day, it’s enough to make Jensen want to get down on his knees right there in the back of the convention center, where anyone could catch them.

“So take me, then,” Misha teases, his hand curling around Jensen’s hip, his nails scratching at the denim.

Jensen loves the photo he takes very much, with their chests pressed together and that stupid half smile on Misha’s face. He’s irresistible. Jensen grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him to his lips again, hungry for more.

After a couple minutes of none too gentle kissing, Misha is the one that pulls away.

“We gotta get back.”

“I want you,” he doesn’t sound needy like he almost expected, he sounds assured, like he knows that he’ll get it.

“You’ll have me,” Misha leans up and runs his tongue across Jensen’s bottom lip, “But we have to do our jobs first.”

That night is Jensen’s night to take the lead. It doesn’t happen very often, he’s always been more than happy to let Misha take the reins, be the dominant one, but tonight? Tonight was different.

Misha is laid out on the soft white sheets of the fancy hotel bed by the time Jensen gets away, Jared and Matt laughing at him as he practically runs for the elevator. His nakedness isn’t unexpected, but the look on his face, the softness, the anticipation, even after ten years, it takes Jensen’s breath away.

“Hey,” Misha smiles at him, gesturing at the bed, “Up to par?”

“Fuck,” Jensen whispers back, shrugging out of his jacket and kicking off his shoes immediately, too impatient to be kissing Misha to bother with the rest of his clothes. Misha laughs as Jensen kisses down his chest, and then plucks on his shirt, pulling him back up so they can kiss while Misha unbuttons it deftly, sliding it over his shoulders and tossing it on the floor.

“Jensen,” Misha breathes as Jensen focuses on that pressure point that he knows is a weak spot, “Tell me what you want.”

Jensen’s breath hitches at Misha’s words and he leans back to just look at Misha, his warm hands settled on Jensen’s hips, his eyes bright, and a soft smile on his face.

“I wanna kiss you,” he whispers, leaning back down and trapping Misha’s lips with his own. It’s lazy, languid kissing, worlds away from what had happened that afternoon. Misha seems to be thinking along the same lines, because when he leaves Misha’s lips to suck a bruise onto his collarbone, Misha laughs a little,

“I would have thought you’d be a little more aggressive, from what happened today.”

Jensen nearly growls at the mere idea of them dabbling at intimacy in broad daylight, and it clicks his brain back into that mindset. He bites insistently at Misha’s neck, getting harder by the second as Misha winds his hands through his hair.

The idea of being in control, of Misha being completely his, completely under his will was enough to send him into a frenzy.

“Tell me what you want, Jensen,” Misha whispers in his ear again, his voice low and seductive, “This is your night. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Jensen pushes him back on the bed, reaching over to where Misha had left an array of their favorite toys for him to use and grabbing his favorite blindfold: an actual sleep mask of thick black satin. Misha’s eyes widen at it and he smiles.

“You gonna blindfold me and tie me down?” he teases as Jensen slips the blindfold over his head.

“I’ll only tie you down if you make me, honey,” Jensen punctuates this statement by licking a stripe up Misha’s stomach, pleased with the way Misha shudders.

Jensen loves dirty talk, but he’s not usually able to give Misha the worship he deserves since he’s usually well…gagged. But tonight was his night, and he was going to torture Misha just the way he always tortured him.

“When you got on top of me today, in front of all those people,” he slides his hands down Misha’s torso, relishing in the sighs coming from him, “You really just wanted to make me hard, didn’t you?”

Jensen smiles as his hand hovers over Misha’s cock, with Misha arching off the bed to get him to touch him faster.

“You wanna know how hard I got with your hand around my throat, not even caring that all those people were there? Not caring that there were cameras or anything? Did you see me have to keep fidgeting, that’s all you, Mish. That’s how hard you make me.”

Misha moans loudly as Jensen’s fingers trail, feather light, down his cock. He grins as he reaches for the lube on the bedside table, watching as Misha jumps a little at the snap of the cap, all his senses heightened without his sight.

“Jensen,” he gasps, reaching blindly for some part of him to hold onto, “Keep going, I want you so bad.”

Jensen hums, his cock aching as he watches Misha come undone with the lightest touches. He was usually so in control, to watch him writhe and squirm as Jensen took his cock in his lubed hand was as riveting as it was shocking.

“You had me going right away,” Jensen smiles as he starts a slow rhythm, watching Misha gasp and fist his hand in the pillow above him as the cold lube coated him, “You said you wanted to switch it up, yeah? You put your hand on my knee for what? Three seconds? That’s enough. I thought about dragging you off the stage right then.”

He leans up to bite the shell of Misha’s ear, loving the breathy sounds coming from his mouth, contrasted with the wet, thick strokes of Jensen’s hand pumping him.

“Fuck you make me so hard, sweetheart, I’m gonna make you come for me and then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight.”

Misha gasps and twists under his hands at that, and Jensen laughs darkly.

“You like that, huh? You like the idea of me fucking you into this bed? Of me making sure everyone knows you’re mine?”

“Yes baby, fuck I’m close.”

Misha’s hand has moved from his bicep to his neck, squeezing just a little, just the way Jensen likes. His eyes roll up, but he continues the rhythm.

“I know you are, fuck I love watching you come.”

Misha’s fingernails dig into Jensen’s neck, leaving deep red crescents criss-crossing his skin.

“I’m- I’m gonna come, fuck Jensen-”

“Come on Mish, I wanna see you come undone for me.”

Misha comes loudly, spilling all over Jensen’s hand. Jensen slides the blindfold off his eyes to make sure Misha watches him lick his hand clean.

“This is your night, baby,” Misha pants, reaching for him, “Let me-”

Jensen pushes him back. He knows what he wants, and he’s going to come inside Misha or not at all.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Mish, everyone in this building is gonna know who you belong to.”

Misha’s eyes widen again, and he reaches over for the lube again, not taking his eyes away from Jensen. Jensen can’t resist him, he leans forward and kisses him, sliding his tongue in his mouth, Misha wrapping his arms around his back, pulling him closer.

Jensen slicks himself up with lube, thanking every deity he can think of that they were both practiced enough at this to not need a lot of prep. Their bodies knew each other like a second skin. It was easy even when it was heated and rushed.

Misha made to turn over when he saw what Jensen was doing, but Jensen grabbed him by the neck and held him there.

“Not tonight, honey. Face to face. You’re gonna see me come inside you.”

Misha’s breath hitched again at this, leaning into the pressure on his neck.

“Whatever you want.”

Jensen found the right angle and eased into him, Misha throwing back his head with a half strangled cry. The pressure, the tight, wet heat, the feel of Misha completely surrounding him made his whole body ache with restless longing.

Hand still on Misha’s neck, Jensen begins a slow, steady rhythm, relishing the feel of Misha, the noises he made, the feel of his pulse thundering under Jensen’s fingers. Jensen loves this, and he gets it rarely, so he knows to savor it.

“Fuck you feel so good, Mish, I love the feel of you.”

“Jensen, fuck, harder.”

Their movements become less coordinated, more wild, as Jensen can feel himself getting close, spurred on by Misha’s words. His hand tightens around Misha’s neck, pulling him up so that they’re nose to nose, Jensen fucking him as hard as he can as Misha whispers half choked filthy things in his ear.

“Look at me,” Jensen orders making sure to pull Misha’s face back a little so he could see his face, “I’m gonna come and you’re gonna watch me. Don’t close your eyes, yeah?”

Misha just nods.

Jensen thrusts up once, twice, three times, and hits that perfect peak, spilling inside Misha with a loud cry, pumping himself through his orgasm and making sure his eyes stay locked with Misha’s. Misha does as he’s told, he keeps his eyes on Jensen, even though he can tell he wants to close them at the pleasure of being filled so fully by him.

When Jensen pulls out, he lowers Misha gently on the bed, watching with satisfaction as Misha can’t even clean himself up, completely spent.

“Fuck Jensen, fuck.”

Jensen leans down to kiss him gently before heading to the bathroom to clean up and get them each a glass of water. He settles down in bed and Misha curls closer to him, drawing patterns in between the freckles on his skin. After the intensity of the night, Jensen is glad to just be able to be with him, a little pocket of serenity before another, no doubt more intense, second round.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this panel and the [cursed selfie](https://winchestersingerautorepair.tumblr.com/post/635719576994381824/leftistdean-%E3%83%84-anyways-right). Save me from these two.


End file.
